


Saving Grace

by mckirkha1



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, I Wrote This For Me, you can read it if you want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29594361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mckirkha1/pseuds/mckirkha1
Summary: 1,000 years ago, a witch with powerful psychic abilities had a premonition that the family next door would commit an act so unholy, it would breed a race of monsters. And though she considers the family’s children to be close friends, she cannot risk the balance of nature. But just as Esther heard of the Immortality Spell, there are whispers of another... a spell which may leave a vital chink in the armor Esther is creating for her children.But magic has a mind of its own, and Maja’s curse is not what she intended.In present-day Mystic Fall, Virginia, Grace Sinclair wakes one morning sure that her friend Elena Gilbert is returning to school after a four-month absence following the death of her parents... only, Grace is apparently the only person aware of such a tragedy. Until that night, that is, when the Gilbert car nosedives off the Wickery Bridge.So sets in motion a whirlwind of events none of the citizens of Mystic Falls are prepared for, including witches, psychics, ghosts, vampires, werewolves, and hybrids... and that’s just the beginning.
Relationships: Damon Salvatore/Original Female Character(s), Kol Mikaelson/Original Female Character(s), Tyler Lockwood/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Eventual Kol x OC (in the meantime, slight Damon x OC and Tyler x OC)  
> (A/N: Disclaimer - I do not own TVD or TO. Also, this has not been beta’d so any mistakes are my own)  
> CW: Talk of blood, canon-level violence, eventual cursing, and smut  
> This is my first time publishing anything I've written so if you have any notes for me, let me know! Also please be kind lol

**1000 AD: The Originals**

“Ayana, you mustn’t do this.” Maja had been begging the older witch to see reason for nearly half a day.

“Esther will not be swayed,” Ayana’s response had been the same for nearly half a day. “She wants to protect her children, Maja.”

“You know what I saw!” Maja protested. “You know how it will anger the Spirits!”

“Then it will be her consequence to bear, not ours.” Ayana bore no ill will against either the young witch in front of her or the woman of whom they spoke. But she had no desire to get any more mixed up in their business than she already was. She had conceded to Esther’s pleading out of pity, guiding her towards a spell that would give her the protection she so craved for her remaining family. The same night the child, Henrik, had died, however, Maja had Seen a premonition of the future, a rare gift no one else in their land possessed. _Monsters,_ she had cried, _you will breed a race of monsters!_ Esther, who had been a mentor to Maja as she learned alongside Esther’s own son Kol, had ignored her. Blinded by grief, Esther demanded Ayana help her gather the ingredients for the spell, forsaking the Ancestors she had been sworn to.

“I saw our home, Ayana.” Maja spoke softly, knowing that was the one bit of information she had yet to share, had left out of her recounting to both women earlier. The destruction of their village. “Overrun with unnatural creatures, bathed in the blood of innocents.” Ayana straightened, abandoning her basket of White Oak bark on the ground.

“Esther can’t have done that much damage.”

“Can’t she? A thousand years later, Ayana, and our descendants are still paying for whatever mess Esther creates tonight.” The older witch hesitated, then stepped closer and lowered her voice.

“There is… something.” She had heard of a tactic they could try, a story passed down from legend. “But it may not work.”

“I will try anything,” Maja vowed. She felt for Esther, she truly did. Kol and Rebekah, all of them really, were her friends – she didn’t want anything to happen to them; Henrik had been a joyful presence in her life. But she couldn’t let Esther upset the Balance so monumentally – she wouldn’t. Even if the cost was her life.

* * *

The spell Ayana had found for Esther centered around blood – Black Magic. She was to mix it into their dinner, with a few other ingredients, perform the spell, and feed it to her children. The result would be their redemption; no one could hurt any of them ever again. Ayana had found something that might put a dent in that plan. “I won’t be part of this,” she warned Maja. “I gave you the spell, but if you want to stop Esther, you’re on your own.”

“I understand.” Esther’s wrath could be as ferocious as her husband’s. “Thank you.”

“This is not a guarantee. It is a legend, nothing more, and it may not work at all.” But Maja had hope. No premonitions had revealed to her the success of the spell, but she knew enough about her gifts to trust in her intuition. So, she got to work. She knew what Esther had used for the spell – _who_ Esther had used for the spell – and knew that she had only a small window of opportunity. As Esther’s spell centered around blood, so did Maja’s – her own. It only took a bit, not enough to kill her, spelled and mixed in with Tatia’s. In theory, it would provide a loophole specific to her. Esther’s spell may make her children invulnerable, but Maja would be their weakness. By consuming her spelled blood, all six of them would be connected. Sneaking as close as she dared to the fire pit outside Mikael’s home, near which sat a cask of wine she knew contained spelled blood, Maja pulled a bottle of her own blood, previously collected, from under her skirts. As quickly as she could, she began pouring it into the cask, when Rebekah stepped outside.

“Maja? What are you doing here?” Only half-emptied, Maja was forced to let the small vial fall to the ground, where she pressed it into the mud with her foot.

“Oh, I was coming to say hello when I smelled your mother’s stew.” Luckily, any strange movements Rebekah might have noticed Maja making were hidden by the rather large spit and pot over the fire. “She really is the best cook in the village.”

“I would invite you to have some, but my father will be home soon.” Everyone was afraid of Mikael, with good reason. After Henrik’s death, his temper had been even more uncontrollable.

“I understand. Say hello to your family for me!” Walking quickly away, Maja prayed the amount of blood she’d gotten into the wine had been enough.

* * *

Later that evening, far too apprehensive to finish her supper, Maja stepped outside her home, hoping to find reprieve from the concerned looks of her parents and siblings. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of Mikael through the open window of his own home. She was just in time to see him drive his sword through Kol’s heart.

_The Sun for life_ , she chanted to herself, one half of her hoping the poor family would stay dead, the other pleading to see Kol’s smiling face pop back up at the window. Mikael left, looking for something, and Maja stepped back into the doorway, hidden in shadow. A few minutes later, Kol’s head did appear again in the window, along with the rest of his siblings, all looking bloody and extremely confused. Mikael returned, a sick-looking girl in his arms. _Fresh blood._ Maja didn’t want to watch anymore.

* * *

The next night, Maja was sitting under the White Oak in the middle of the village, one of her father’s hunting knives up her sleeve.

_The White Oak for Immortality…_ but if the spell had worked, would she be the exception? Mikael’s request, repeated to her by Ayana, rang in her ears. _Stronger, faster, superior in power and senses._

Perhaps, then, the trick wouldn’t be killing them, but _getting_ to them. As Elijah walked past, off to do whatever errands he could no longer do during the day, Maja made her choice. _Dear, sweet Elijah._ The most mild-mannered, the most kind. The one least likely to snap her neck should he notice her intentions. Knowing it was likely futile to attempt to be sneaky, as she and Elijah were the only two people out, she went for another tactic.

“Elijah!” He whirled.

“Maja? What are you doing out here so late?”

“I just… wanted to see how you were doing? I know this transition cannot be an easy one.” She stepped closer and he stiffened.

“No, no it… it is not.” Even now, his deep, calm voice soothed Maja’s anxiety, as it always had. “There are…unexpected challenges.” She imagined all of it was unexpected, as Esther and Mikael kept their plan a secret from their children, but she knew what he was trying to say.

“Like what?” She stepped closer again, now within striking distance. Elijah was clearly uncomfortable with her line of questioning.

“Let us just say it is an exercise in control.” Suddenly, she lashed out, knife in hand. Had he been human, it would have gone directly into his heart. As he was not, however, he moved to the side in time to avoid most of the damage. She did leave a long gash across his chest, however. It healed almost immediately. “What are you doing?” Elijah demanded. Maja was numb.

“It didn’t work.”

“Of course, it didn’t work! You of all people should know better.” _I meant the spell._ But she didn’t correct him, and she didn’t seem to notice that she was being criticized, not for attempting to kill him, but for doing a shoddy job of it. _We’re not connected at all._


	2. 2009 AD: The First Signs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace Sinclair discovers she may be a witch after a tragedy affects her friend Elena Gilbert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Underage drinking, cursing, mentions of car accidents  
> I'm not sure what it feels like to be compelled, but I tried my best  
> -I describe the main character as having a biracial father (black father, white mother) and a white mother (of Swedish ancestry) but looking white. I promise, this is for plot purposes - I needed her to be related to both the Sinclair family (character from TO) and a descendant of the Vikings like the Mikaelsons, and I needed her to look similar to both that ancestor and Rebekah Mikaelson. I apologize if this decision or description offends anyone, that was not my intent.

**2009 AD: The First Signs**

Grace Sinclair woke up with a single, urgent thought on her mind: _Elena’s coming back to school today. I have to make sure she’s okay._ It was a mantra she repeated to herself throughout her morning routine, even sloppily hurrying through her signature braid, before tugging on her clothes and grabbing her bag.

“Morning, Gracie!” Her mother chirped as Grace hurtled into the kitchen. When she nearly knocked her youngest sister off the chair in her haste to grab a slice of bread, Aimee gripped the edge of the island counter tightly.

“Woah, Grace, where’s the fire?” At Aimee’s exclamation, both middle-child Chloe and Grace’s father looked up, seemingly equally amused and concerned.

“Elena,” Grace muttered, far too concerned about her friend to form a complete sentence.

“Elena Gilbert?” While Grace herself was a year older than her three closest friends (Elena Gilbert, Caroline Forbes, and Bonnie Bennett), Chloe was in the same year and shared several classes with the three girls. Grace nodded, popping her now toasted bread into her mouth and running out the door.

“Sorry, got to go,” she exclaimed around the toast, “I need to make sure she’s okay!”

The kitchen was silent for a few moments as the family listened to the car door slam and Grace pull out of the driveway. Aimee was the one to break it, with a valid concern:

“Did she leave us here?”

Grace was antsy, tapping the steering wheel and nervously bobbing her head as she somehow managed to hit every single red light on the way to the school. She was talking to herself, giving herself tips on how to handle the situation.

“Be calm, Grace. Don’t overwhelm her. She hasn’t seen anyone all summer. Just be cool, be reassuring. You’re her friend. She’s way more nervous than you are.” She kept a steady stream of murmured assurances the entire drive, only pausing when she pulled into her designated parking spot. “Okay. Deep breath,” she followed her own advice, breathing in deeply and out slowly, before nodding to herself. “Let’s fucking do this.”

It took her only a few minutes to locate the huddle of cheerleaders where she knew she could find Elena. Only Elena wasn’t there yet. _That makes sense. Why would she want to get here early and have to deal with everyone’s shit?_ She decided to wait with Bonnie and Caroline. As a junior, she normally wouldn’t have been close with the three sophomore girls. Bonnie was actually her distant cousin somehow, but Grace’s parents weren’t the type to stress extended family connections, so the two had only a passion knowledge of each other. And, of course, she’d vaguely known all three of them since she moved to town, as they were close friends with her neighbor, Matt, but cheerleading had forced them to get to know each other, and they couldn’t help becoming fast friends. Elena’s generosity and warmth had drawn Grace to her immediately, while Bonnie brought a steady, reassuring presence to her life. But it was, surprisingly, the perky yet neurotic Caroline who had become Grace’s closest friend. Caroline’s need for organization and her control-freak tendencies helped to keep Grace grounded and on track, while Grace’s easy-going personality and unconditional support had mediated Caroline’s neuroses. However, this particular morning, Grace was reminded that Caroline wasn’t exactly the most sensitive person – not that Grace was either, but at least she was aware of it – so Grace was sure she and Bonnie would need to be there to ensure she didn’t unintentionally say anything to set Elena off. As Grace came up behind the group, she caught Bonnie’s attention.

“Hey, good morning, Grace!” Bonnie waved, alerting Caroline to Grace’s presence. The other blonde narrowed her eyes at Grace.

“You’re late.”

“It’s 7:20.”

“We agreed to meet outside the school at 7:15.” Knowing it was futile the argue the point, Grace just nodded and smiled her apology.

“Sorry. Won’t happen tomorrow.” Bonnie had just opened her mouth to say something when Grace spotted Elena approaching, hand in hand with her football-player boyfriend, Matt Donovan. “Elena!” Grace waved, jogging a few feet to meet in the middle. Forgetting all of her previous advice to herself, she placed a comforting hand on Elena’s arm. “Are you okay?” Elena simply blinked at her for a moment before giving that signature smile.

“Of course, I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” _What?_

“Well, because-“ but now that she had to think about it, Grace realized she had no idea why she’d believed all morning that Elena was grieving, or that she’d just returned to school even though Grace had seen her in class yesterday. She’d simply woken up knowing that something terrible had happened to her friend and she needed to comfort her. “I… don’t know.” Shaking her head and trying to wave off the concerned looks her four friends were giving her, Grace smiled and shrugged. “I think I just had a super realistic dream and got confused. That ever happen to you?”

“Oh, yeah I’ve done that before!” Matt, the only one in the group she’d been close friends with since childhood, assured her in a tone that suggested he most certainly had not done that before but didn’t want her to feel bad about it.

“Okay, so if we’re going to ignore the fact that you’re being super weird, can we at least go over the plans for tonight?” Caroline cut in. Grace had completely forgotten. The bonfire was tonight. Though, how she had forgotten, she had no idea. It would be Grace’s first party of the year and Caroline was prepared to use violent physical force if she showed any hesitation about showing up.

“Care, I told you. It’s family night, I can’t go.” Elena explained again as patiently as she could. Even Elena had a limit when it came to Caroline. As the three girls began walking toward the school, Matt turned to Grace.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I could drive you to the hos-“ _Of course, Matt's go to - ‘I’ll drive you to the hospital’._ If Grace seemed anything less than 110% around Matt, he seemed to be transported back to last summer.

“That’s really sweet Matt, but I promise I’m fine. It was just a weird dream that I couldn’t shake off.” He didn’t seem completely convinced, but he wasn’t the type to push, so he simply nodded towards their friends who, by now, were significantly ahead of them.

“We should catch up, huh?” Giving her shoulder one last reassuring squeeze, Matt led the way towards the school. _It really is a shame,_ Grace thought, _that Elena doesn’t love him._ Matt was sweet and devoted and probably far too much like Elena, but he was too head over heels to notice she’d been pulling away recently. Grace was quite close with both of them, would probably count Matt among her best friends, so she hated to sit back and watch the obviously doomed relationship run its course, but she had no clue what to do about it, or even if she should. Caroline and Bonnie must have felt the same because none of them had made any mention of it. _Whatever. It’s not my business._

* * *

Unsurprisingly, the combined efforts of Caroline’s nagging and Matt and Bonnie’s pleading had convinced Elena to ditch family night (though it was probably mostly due to the nagging). While Matt refused to part with his beloved truck, even for a night, Grace offered to drive Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie to the party, partly to convince Caroline about her enthusiasm for the event and partly to convince herself. Matt wasn’t happy about her driving in the dark, not after her accident last summer, but he could suck it.

“I don’t think I even knew this was out here.” Grace was awed at the natural clearing that had been turned into a perfect spot for a party, complete with a raging bonfire smack in the middle. Of course, she’d known there were parties out here, but knowing and _knowing_ were two different things _._ She hadn’t attended any previous parties in the clearing thanks to her and her sisters’ previously packed schedules, not to mention her boyfriend Bryan’s preference for ‘quiet nights in’, as he put it. _But Bryan isn’t here,_ Grace reminded herself harshly.

“You don’t remember having to come out here when the elementary school decided we were all tyrants and needed to ‘clean up the environment’ or whatever bullshit they fed our parents?” Tyler Lockwood inquired as he handed Grace a solo cup filled with surprisingly cheap beer. She blinked in surprise - not at the beer, or the fact Tyler was here because of course, he was. Rather, that he was speaking to her so casually. _I don’t think Tyler and I have managed a casual conversation since…_ well. It didn’t matter. She would rather not think about the last time she and Tyler managed a conversation - or what that conversation had led to. Again, she had to force herself back to the present.

“I moved here when I was eleven, dumbass. I didn’t go to your elementary school.” Matt choked on his beer at the scandalized look on Tyler’s face when the word ‘dumbass’ left Grace’s lips. _If he wants to pretend nothing happened, so can I_ , she told herself.

“Shit, I totally forgot!” Ben McKittrick interjected, the Senior football player was already a little drunk. “You’re, like, from the swamp or something right?”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘bayou’, Ben.” As the rest of the football team converged onto the girls, Bonnie rolled her eyes at the apparent stupidity of teenage boys.

“Yeah, I’m from New Orleans.” Grace shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. She always got uncomfortable when people asked about her beloved but rarely mentioned hometown. She still didn’t know how much to mention, how much of their past her parents wanted kept secret.

“How do you go from New Orleans to Mystic Falls, Virginia?” Tyler called as he continued filling cups from the keg for the steady stream of newcomers. Slightly unnerved by his chill demeanor, Grace directed her answer toward Ben and the girl currently sitting on his lap - Jessica, maybe, or Janet?

“Uh, my dad transferred jobs. So, you know… we had to come with him.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, running her fingers up and down the contours of her braid. It wasn’t technically a lie. Joseph Sinclair _had_ changed jobs; it was just after they’d already gotten to Mystic Falls. But Grace remembered her parents as completely different from the people they presented themselves as in this town. Joseph and Cecile had always cared for their children dearly, but they hadn’t always extended the same courtesy to others. They made enemies, or at least rivals, and kept secrets. They always kept the door at the end of the downstairs hall in their French Quarter home locked, even to Grace. Over the years, Grace had gathered that her parents must have been Wiccans, and someone in the Quarter – a dangerous someone, someone they mockingly called ‘ _The King’_ – hadn’t liked that. Grace’s parents had gotten sloppy in hiding their doings, and the Nine Covens had chased them out, fearing The King’s wrath against them all. She could still remember the night they left as if it were yesterday.

_As they were packing up to leave in the middle of the night, Grace ran out into the courtyard, hoping to spend her last moments in the city in her beloved garden, filled with night-blooming flowers. But a man was standing on the other side of the wrought iron fence. His mocha-colored skin seemed to glow in the moonlight and Grace could have sworn she saw dark veins under his eyes before she blinked and he was just a normal man, staring at her as if she wasn’t supposed to be there, even though it was her house._

_“Hello there,” he said softly. His voice was gravelly, more comforting than she would have expected. “What’s your name?”_

_“Grace. Grace Sinclair.” Her mother would have had a fit if she knew Grace had told her name to a strange man standing outside their house, but he didn’t seem scary. Something told Grace he wasn’t going to hurt her._

_“What are you doing up so late, Grace Sinclair?”_

_“My parents are making us move.” Grace was perfectly aware 11 was too old for the undignified sulking she was currently displaying, but she couldn’t help it. New Orleans was her lifeblood, the soul of the city thrumming in time with her heartbeat. She didn’t want to leave, even though her parents told her it wasn’t safe anymore. “It was my job to pack for my sisters and me, but…” she trailed her fingertips over the petals of the flowers nearest her, a mixed bed of moonflowers and night gladiolus. “It’s so beautiful here.” Her voice was quiet, more for herself than him, and Grace didn’t expect that he even heard her. But he had._

_“I agree. This city is certainly… something else.” Grace smiled at him, glad to have found a kindred spirit, even if this strange man’s opinion on the city wouldn’t change her parent’s minds. “You mentioned you have sisters?”_

_“Two of them,” she nodded, again giving him more information than probably advisable, “Chloe and Aimee. They’re younger than me.” Upon hearing this news, something seemed to shift in the man’s expression, though Grace couldn’t say what it was. “They won’t even tell us why we have to leave! And where are we supposed to go? They never see any of our other family!” Grace shook her head stubbornly. “I won’t go.” He stared at her for several long moments, his gaze flickering to the house behind her a few times before returning to her; he appeared to be indecisive about something. Finally, the man reached into the pocket of his suede coat and his hand reemerged, clasped around a small metal object._

_“Come over here, Grace.” A part of her knew walking closer to this strange man was not a clever idea, but again that voice inside told her he wasn’t going to hurt her. When she was within arm’s reach of him, just on the other side of the fence, he leaned down so they were eye level. His eyes were captivating. The deepest brown, like freshly churned soil, and deep-set into a face she could now see was quite handsome. Grace found she couldn’t look away from those eyes, didn’t want to. “This is a ring made of a stone called a jet. Have you heard of it?” She nodded vaguely, barely glancing at the ring he now held out to show her. It was quite pretty, seemingly naturally forming a rough teardrop shape. But his eyes demanded her attention. “Jet will protect anyone who wears it from anybody who tries to hurt them.” He looked at her even more intensely now, his eyes dilating slightly before returning to normal, despite there being no change in the light. “You’re going to take this ring, Grace. You’re going to wear it or keep it with you, and you’re going to tell your parents you’ve decided you do want to move.”_

_“I’m going to take the ring.” She assured him. She would do whatever he wanted her to, this captivating man who would never hurt her. “And I’m going to tell my parents I want to move.”_

_“You’re going to tell your parents that you want to go find family, have relationships with them that you couldn’t before.” Grace distantly remembered her parents mentioning a set of cousins, originating from some extended relative somewhere in Salem… maybe they could live with them? “Do you understand that Grace?”_

_“I’m going to tell my parents that I want to see my family.”_

_“And you’re not going to tell anyone that you saw me tonight, Grace.”_

_“I won’t tell anyone.” She swore. He finally broke their intense stare down, leaving Grace feeling a bit bereft. He reached through the rods of the fence, his much bigger hand wrapping around hers and plopping a silver and black ring into her palm - the jet was cased in the center in a rather masculine style, silver fleur-de-lis forming the shoulders of the center stone. It was clearly made for a man, but Grace found it beautiful._

_“Gracie!” Aimee called out from somewhere in the house. “Gracie, come inside!” Grace knew the stress was getting to them all, that little Aimee was trying her hardest to keep her tone light and carefree. She turned her head to make sure Aimee wasn’t at the window, wouldn’t see her talking to the stranger. But when she turned her head back, he had vanished._

“Earth to Sinclair! You still in there?” Matt was in front of her, waving his hand in her face.

“What?”

“You just totally spaced out,” Caroline explained. “We thought you were having a stroke.”

“No one thought you were having a stroke.” Bonnie rolled her eyes fondly. “But you _were_ off in your head. Is something wrong?” Grace twirled the mysteriously gifted silver-set jet ring, just small enough to fit on her left thumb. Another jet ring she’d bought for herself, this one not natural but princess cut and set in a thin gold band, flared bright on her right hand in the light of the fire.

“Yeah. Just worrying about a history test.” Jessica-or-Janet, another Junior in Grace’s history class, groaned loudly from her perch in Ben’s lap.

“ _Please_ don’t mention that damned test. I just want to have fun tonight!”

“Amen to that!” Grace laughed, raising her beer in the air as if she were toasting the sentiment. Finally moving from her spot on the perimeter of the clearing, she led the way towards the fire with Caroline and Bonnie trailing behind.

None of them noticed Matt pull Elena aside.

* * *

Grace was the designated driver for the night - and had been every night since her accident - so she nursed her single, watery beer for the next several hours. Bonnie and Caroline did not have the same hesitations. As the keg got emptier, the clearing got louder, and soon Grace could hardly hear herself think over the music, laughter, and drunken, too-loud conversations of her peers. She watched, amused, as Caroline stumbled over to her on cute, but ill-advised heeled boots.

“Have I tol’ you how much I love your hair?” She slurred with a smile.

“It’s the same as yours, Care Bear.” Before Grace could even finish her protestation, Caroline was waggling her finger and scowling as if arguing a particularly important topic.

“No. No, i’z not! Tizz longer, and ‘s lighter, and i’z very, very thick!” Somehow managing to mispronounce a word three separate ways in one sentence was a new personal record for Caroline. But Grace knew from experience that, when drunk, Affectionate Caroline was very closely followed by Crying Caroline, so she set her own beer on a tree stump next to her and gently tried to pry the red plastic cup out of Caroline’s hand. “Get your own!” But Care’s reflexes were much slower, and by the time she tried to yank the cup away, Grace already had it in hand.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight, Care.”

“But-“

“How about I undo my braid and you can style my hair?” Pleased with that trade-off, Caroline clapped and giggled in excitement, nearly bouncing up and down while waiting for Grace to carefully separate the two braids running down the right side of her head.

“You look like a Viking when you do it like that.” Bonnie’s speech was significantly more stable than Caroline’s, but her gait was far from graceful.

“That’s the idea,” Grace muttered. Caroline was right, Grace’s hair was exceptionally long and thick, and to keep it manageable she wore it in some kind of braid nearly every day. She tried to change it up a bit, switching from a French braid to fishtail, twin braids to crowns to plaits, but her favorites were inspired by her mother’s Nordic heritage – half-head braids and the traditional ‘Viking braid’ especially. Having finally unwound the two thin, vertical snake braids that made up today’s look, Grace shook out her hair for a moment before moving her and Caroline’s discarded beers to the ground and sitting on the tree stump, a perfect height to be her friend’s Barbie doll for the night.

“Where did you get your hair?” Bonnie asked, unprompted.

“I was born with it?” Grace’s confused response came out sounding more like a question.

“No, I know that”, Bonnie rolled her eyes. “I meant, like, genetically. We might be third cousins or whatever, but your dad still gets his hair from my side of the family.” That was true. Joseph Sinclair’s hair was thick and mahogany brown, very unlike Grace’s. “And your mom is blonde, but her hair is like…” Bonnie paused for a moment, alcohol dulling her ability to find the right word. “Thin. Her hair is thin, and her and Chloe’s hair is browner than yours.” That was also true. Grace’s younger sister could have been a carbon copy of Cecile 20 years ago, both of them with dark blonde hair and brown eyes. Aimee, two years younger than Grace, looked the most like their father, whose own mother had been the white bartender at the bar frequented by Edward Sinclair - Joseph had been raised by his mother and though that could not possibly have changed his physical appearance, he certainly looked more like her. His own children, had they been lined up in order, would have looked like a printer being re-filled with ink - Grace, pale, platinum-haired, and as Swedish-looking as her mother’s ancestors; Chloe, dishwater blonde and American as apple pie; and Aimee, whose brown hair and broad features echoed their father’s.

“Who knows?” Grace shrugged, not that concerned with the origins of her hair color. “Maybe some long-ago ancestor had white-blonde hair or something.” Caroline had managed to pull together one decent braid down the left side of Grace’s back and was moving to the right half when a bit of a commotion caught their attention.

“Seriously?” Matt cried from somewhere deeper into the woods. Elena stomped into the clearing, beelining directly for their tree stump.

“I’m going home.” She muttered, seeming more exhausted than angry.

“Okay, yeah, let me just-“

“No, stay, Grace. I’ll call my parents. Give us a chance to do family night, anyway.” She smiled wryly.

“Are you sure?” Grace was already starting to stand when Elena gently pushed her back down.

“Yes. Stay. Have fun. I’m not ruining three peoples’ night just because I fought with my boyfriend.” Grace started to speak again, to ask about the fight and make sure Elena was okay when she barreled on. “Besides, you look like an idiot with only half your hair braided. I couldn’t risk being seen with you.” Laughing through her fake indignation, Grace and the girls waved goodbye to Elena and promised to talk more tomorrow, when Caroline would no doubt give her the third degree and analyze every second of whatever happened between her and Matt. Grace watched Elena walk towards the road and pull out her phone, putting it to her ear, before the distance and the lack of light became too much and she was lost to the night. Assured that Elena would soon be safely headed home, Grace turned back to her friends.

* * *

Despite having little to no alcohol in her system, Grace had been convinced by both Caroline and Bonnie to stay until they were almost the last people in the clearing.

“Come on, you two.” Grace sighed, attempting to guide both Caroline and Bonnie towards her waiting BMW. She vaguely wondered if Matt had gotten home alright since she had only glimpsed him once since Elena’s departure and it was at the keg. But then Caroline tripped over her own foot and Grace lurched forward to grab the usually graceful girl before she face-planted. Caroline thought the whole thing was hilarious, and Bonnie for some reason thought it would be a good idea to mock her friend, and Grace had to catch her as well - but somehow Grace finally managed to get them both in the car and buckled, though not completely cognizant or upright, before heading home. _Thank fuck Caroline is staying the night with me._ If the Sheriff caught her daughter acting completely sloshed and sneaking in way past curfew, she might very well ship Caroline off to live with her father. Or in a nunnery. Who knew with Liz Forbes? Wanting to avoid taking the nearer Wickery Bridge, as even before the Worst Night of Her Life bridges had seemed shady in Grace’s opinion, she took the longer, more sensible route back into town. _If only I had been driving that night…_ but with Caroline and Bonnie drunkenly arguing in the backseat, now was not the time to be thinking about the accident.

Both girls were asleep by the time Grace got home, but she was able to rouse Bonnie enough for them to half-carry Caroline inside and up to Grace’s bedroom, where they deposited her on the bed unceremoniously.

“I’m getting water and Aspirin for tomorrow. Try to make sure she doesn’t die while I’m gone, yeah?” Bonnie drunkenly waved off Grace’s request but sat down next to Caroline’s prone form anyway.

When her two charges were taken care of, Grace took up Bonnie’s position next to Caroline while Bonnie curled up on the bench at the foot of the bed. They were not wonderful sleeping conditions, but no one really cared.

“G’night Gracie,” Bonnie mumbled. Caroline snored in response, but Grace was asleep before any other comment was made.

At 10:30 the next morning, all three girls stumbled into the kitchen to begin their attempt at pretending they hadn’t broken the law right under their parents’ noses last night. Cecile was making bacon and eggs and Joseph had coffee and Bonnie’s favorite creamer ready to go. The TV in the corner was on, beginning the 11:00 news as everyone dug into their food.

“…A fatal accident last night on Wickery Bridge has left two local teens grieving-“ Every head popped up and focused on the television with laser precision. Dread settled in Grace’s stomach as déjà vu began to creep over her. “…Grayson Gilbert was driving last night with his wife Miranda and daughter Elena, a sophomore at Mystic Falls High School when he lost control of the car and drove off Wickery Bridge.” Horrified silence filled the room. Someone dropped their fork. The clatter of metal against ceramic seemed entirely too loud. “Miraculously, Elena Gilbert managed to escape the car and swim to the riverbank, where police say she fell unconscious. Grayson and Miranda were, unfortunately, trapped in the car as it sank. The two locals leave behind 16-year old Elena and a son, 15-year old Jeremy Gilbert.”

“Oh my God,” Bonnie whispered. Aimee and Chloe covered their mouths, shocked and speechless.

“My mom.” Caroline croaked. “I have to talk to my mom.” As the Sheriff, Liz Forbes likely would have seen Elena and Jeremy by now and would certainly have more information. Joseph seemed stunned but nodded vaguely.

“I’ll drive you. Bonnie, is there…?” He trailed off, not quite knowing what he was asking. She nodded anyway.

“I’d like to come if that’s okay. I want to ask if we can see Elena.” The trio filed outside, unnaturally stiff and quiet.

“I’m… I’m gonna see if anyone else knows anything.” Aimee murmured, she and Chloe walking out of the kitchen holding on to each other as if that would rewind the last 12 hours. The kitchen was silent again, the only sound the droning of the news, which had moved on to the weather. As they heard Grace’s father’s car drive away, Cecile spoke.

“You said something happened to Elena.” The words were almost too quiet to hear, would have been if anyone had been moving.

“What?” Grace now noticed that her cheeks were wet, throat tight with a million questions no one could answer. _That goddamn bridge… why is it always that goddamn bridge?_

“Yesterday morning.” Her mother repeated, a bit louder. “You said you needed to get to school because something bad had happened to Elena and you wanted to make sure she was okay.”

“Yeah, but nothing had happened. I just had a bad dream.” Grace’s mind was sluggish, not connecting the dots.

“Did you? Or did you know that something bad was going to happen to your friend?” Grace’s gaze slowly moved from the TV to her mother’s face, which was attempting to communicate a message Grace didn’t want to understand. Because her mother was right. Now that the dreadful thing had happened, Grace could clearly remember the dream she’d had that caused her to worry the previous morning. It was the first day of Grace’s senior year and hardly anyone had seen Elena or Jeremy all summer as they dealt with the fallout of their parents’ car driving over the Wickery Bridge. Grace had just wanted to make sure Elena was doing okay, or as well as could be expected.

“Holy shit.”


	3. 2028 AD: Same But New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take a walk in Grace's shoes (and a peak in her head) at this glimpse into what the future may hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even is this timeline. Seriously, I tried, but don't expect this to be accurate - consider it AU if you need to because there will be continuity errors with the show  
> Also, I use "AD" because that's what the show uses but I think they changed it so "CE" is now technically correct?  
> CW: Brief language, mention of dead bodies, and tense family relationships

**2028 AD: Same But New**

“Damn,” Grace whistled as she walked through a door she’d through so many times before. “I love what you’ve done with the place. Barely even recognize it.” A junior-high-aged kid strolled by, wearing a blue and white uniform. “I sincerely hope you don’t let those kids sit on the living room couches.”

“After god-knows how many times I caught all of you sitting on them, going at it like rabbits?” Alaric shook his head. “The couches were burned long ago.” They made their way through the expanded corridors to his office as they talked.

“I was referring more to how many dead bodies have been laid out on them over the years, but you raise a valid point. Now that I think about it, maybe we should have burned them ourselves.”

“Damon would have killed you before you got within three feet.” Also a valid point. Damon always was protective of his fancy furniture. “But I’m assuming you’re not here to talk about old couches, so why’d you make the trip?”

“I can’t believe you even have to ask! I’m here to see my favorite set of twins, of course!” Alaric gave her a look that was 100% Headmaster - meaning, a lecture was headed her way.

“And your niece?” Grace blinked at him.

“Yes. Of course.” Her voice was not as enthusiastic as it had been a moment ago. “Her too. Obviously.”

“Grace, you can’t keep doing this. She’s a smart girl, and she’s not as oblivious as you might think.”

“I _know_ she’s smart. She’s bloody brilliant.” ‘Bloody’, a term that had slipped into her vocabulary after years of hearing it, had become perhaps one of her favorite words. She couldn’t deny herself the delicious irony of a cuss word centered around blood.

“Well, then, why - “

“Auntie Grace!” Grace whirled around to see the twins at the office door, delighted smiles on their faces. “You’re back!” Grace couldn’t deny she was thankful for their timing, saving her from the chastising she knew was coming her way.

“Look at you two!” She hugged each of them tightly, reigning in her desire to read them and potentially violate their privacy. “God, you get more gorgeous every day.” She’d always thought it was a bit poetic, how - though they looked nothing alike - each of them looked so similar to their mothers. “Look at this hair! The pale blonde hair is my thing, you’re totally stealing my thing!”

“I won’t apologize for how God made me.” Everyone in the room snorted at her sudden coming to Jesus, which prompted her to laugh and change the subject.

“How long are you here?”

“Did you bring your _boyfriend_?” The word ‘boyfriend’ was said in a sing-song tone that sounded ridiculous coming out of fifteen-year-old Josie’s mouth.

“ _Fiancé._ ” Grace corrected proudly. “And no. He and Mystic Falls don’t exactly have the best track record - “ Ric seemed to choke in his attempt to hold back his laughter, which Grace ignored - “so I left him at home. And I’m only here for two days, but I’m hoping to make it back for Christmas this year.” The girls, whose faces had fallen at the news of her impending departure, brightened again.

“Can we show you around?”

“Oh, yes, _please,_ can we take Grace on a tour?” The girls leaned around Grace, employing their best puppy-dog eyes at Ric, who they all knew was powerless to resist. Until a voice from the doorway interrupted his crumbling resolve.

“I have a free period. I’ll take her.” Feeling like she’d suddenly been drenched in cold water, Grace whirled toward the open door, where _her niece_ (as Ric had slightly inaccurately called her) was standing, looking more like her mother than she ever had. It was a knife in Grace’s heart.

“Hi.” She should have beamed. She should have run to her and hugged her, as she had the twins.

She should have done a lot of things.

“Hi.” The accompanying smile was an awkward, heartbreaking mixture of sad and cold and confused. It was made worse when she added a perfunctory, “Aunt Grace.” An uncomfortable silence settled over the group.

“Well,” Ric sounded far too satisfied as he clapped his hands, “how about that tour, yeah?”


End file.
